journal entry - 8.19

I feel so restless, though maybe discontented is a better word. And while I know there will never be contentment here, that knowledge doesn't make it easier to bear. In high school I was confident that by age 23 would be a full-time pastor with a wife. It didn't work out like that. No church job, despite countless attempts; no wife, despite even more "attempts" (and cheaters, liars, and back-stabbers don't make things easier). Many of my friends whom I went to school with are working in ministry, married, or both. Two of my exes are married following pretty awful breakups. Yes, cynicism and disillusionment run deep. Amidst this--and no doubt influenced by it--I am restless and aimless, just trudging through this bitch-whore called life, telling myself to hope, pleading with God to help, and hoping that when he does, I won't [screw] it up.